


All Those Times You Lied To Me

by eustassya



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: Angst, M/M, Unhappy Ending, minor Secret Empire spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 08:35:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11353791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustassya/pseuds/eustassya
Summary: He loves Steve, he does, but Tony can't stop - he just lies and lies and lies.





	All Those Times You Lied To Me

**Author's Note:**

> Obligatory 5 + 1 fic. I wanted to explore Tony and lying as a concept, and failed terribly.
> 
> Here, have some pain.
> 
> The SE spoilers mentioned in the tags are really, seriously minor, and they only appear in the Plus One section of the fic. Everything else is pretty self-explanatory.
> 
> Many thanks to smolsofa for motivating me to finish this!!

  
  
  


1 |

  
  


“Mr. Stark.”

 

Steve’s voice is ice-cold anger and sharp bitterness, nothing like the adoring warmth Tony usually gets. Immediately Tony decides he hates it. He’s in the workshop, tinkering with the armor, Captain America a wall of righteous rage where the door should be. Tony looks up, meets Steve’s blazing azure eyes, looks down again. Maybe Steve will yell at him now. There hadn’t been much of a chance for that when the team had found out, what with battling evil and all.

 

But now- Now Steve is at his door, and Tony can’t run. Well, he can, but not without looking like he’s running. And that’s not running at all. He’s sleep-deprived. He needs coffee, pronto. Unfortunately, the good Captain is still eye-murdering him from the doorway, and that, naturally requires his attention.

 

“Captain Rogers,” he says, nodding sagely at the gauntlet laid out before him. He wants to apologise, but he hadn’t had any reason to do it, other than his own selfish wants, and so he doesn’t have an excuse. Doesn’t  _ get  _ to be excused for it.

 

Tony is still waiting for Steve to yell at him, but there’s no sound from the doorway. When he turns to look, he finds himself face-to-face with Steve, their breaths mingling in the space between them. He’s trapped by Steve’s arms, one on each side of him. It’s like one of those shoujo anime situations, he thinks belatedly.

 

“Steve,” his whispers, like a secret. (And Tony would know a lot about those, wouldn’t he?)

 

“You felt foolish, hiding that from us?” Steve’s eyes are shut tight, pale lashes over paler skin, and when he lets out an exhale Tony can feel it on his skin. “Tony-  _ Shellhead _ . Why?”

 

Steve could mean any manner of things - why did you hide this from us, why did you feel like you had to, why did you feel foolish, maybe. Why did you choose to be Iron Man. “Would you have let me on the team, knowing I was Iron Man?” he says, instead of apologising like he wants to.

 

Steve is silent for a while, and then some, and Tony thinks maybe he gets it. There’s no way Steve would want to keep him on the team. Tony Stark : alcoholic engineer ladies’ man. He’s never even been in a fight in his life. Except - Iron Man has. But Tony isn’t Iron Man, not really. Iron Man’s his bodyguard, and everyone buys it, and he just needs to convince the team to forget the entire fight with Molecule Man ever happened.

 

If only it were so easy.

 

“You’re our benefactor, Tony,” Steve says. “If anyone deserves a place on the Avengers… it’s you.”

  
  
  


2 |

  
  


“Iron Man, you okay?”

 

He’s not, not really, but he doesn’t want Steve to know that. “Just fine,” Tony says, thankful once again for the voice modulator he built into the Iron Man helmet.

 

Tony’s in the workshop again, fixing himself up, when Steve appears at the door with a plate of sandwiches and a cup of cocoa. Whoops.

 

“Hiding injuries again, Tony?” Steve sets down the plate and passes him the cocoa, smiling tiredly. There’s an undercurrent of anger in his voice, but it’s mostly worry. Relief rushes through him, unbidden. He wouldn’t know what to do if Steve got mad at him now.

 

His left ankle is twisted and blood is trickling down the side of his leg, a souvenir from the battle earlier. Tony had been in the midst of cleaning up the wound when Steve appeared, and now the blood is starting to flow again.

 

Steve sighs.

 

“I’m sorry,” Tony says sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It really isn’t that bad.”

 

He’s lying, of course, and right in Steve’s face, no less. It’s starting to become a habit - small things, like did you eat the last apple, or are you free for dinner, or are you okay.

 

Tony Stark, compulsive liar.

 

The cut is deep and wide, more of a gash than a cut, really, and it stings painfully when Steve wipes it gently with an alcohol swab. Steve only looks pointedly at him when he hisses at the burn of alcohol on tender flesh, muttering softly under his breath.

 

Steve patches him up, torturously slow, and when he’s done he sits up a little straighter and looks meaningfully at Tony.

 

“...yes?” In the face of Steve’s Meaningful Looks, Tony is kind of a little uncomfortable. It’s not a bad kind of uncomfortable, though - his skin feels prickly and hot, and he just knows a warm flush is spreading over his cheeks, his ears. He feels like Steve is looking into him, into his soul.

 

Tony doesn’t want to know what Steve sees in there.

 

“Tony,” Steve starts, stops, hesitates. He looks almost bashful. “You know there’s no need to hide these things, right?”

 

Oh. Oh _ no.  _ Steve thinks Tony's insecure, for some reason.

 

“It’s normal for you to, um, get injured in fights. We all do. You don’t have to pretend to be okay if you’re not, you hear?”

 

Tony nods, at a loss of what else to say. How do you tell someone it’s not insecurity, but an unexplainable urge, like he can’t help but have to hide the truth.

 

“It doesn’t make you weak,” Steve continues, and Tony feels like the world’s worst human being for being this way.

 

“Okay, Steve,” he says.

 

It’s a small thing, insignificant, until it’s not.

  
  
  


3 |

  
  


“Tony.” Steve catches his wrist as he passes, grip gentle but firm. “There’s something you need to know.”

 

They’re in the Avengers’ living room in the mansion, Steve reading papers over breakfast at the table and Tony passing through for a fresh brew of coffee after a long night. Late morning sunlight spills through the windows, onto the furniture, over the floor, catches in Steve’s shower-damp hair and illuminates it.

 

It’s quiet, today - Jan and Hank off on holiday, Thor on Asgard for family matters, the rest of the Avengers… somewhere or other. Point is, they’re the only ones in the mansion.

 

“Mm,” Tony says, still half asleep.

 

He takes a sip of his coffee, winces when he burns his tongue. Steve gets up and steers him into a seat at the table. It’s a lazy morning. Tony wants to sleep in.

 

“Tony.”

 

“Tooooony.” He lets himself get steered into a seat at the table, perking up a little at the look on Steve’s face.

 

Steve looks serious, but not in the way that belies stress or anxiety. It’s more of a I-have-something-important-to-me-that-I-want-you-to-know look. A mix between grave and eager, Tony thinks. It makes him giggle.

 

Tony takes Steve in, the gentle warmth in his eyes, his neat hair glowing in the soft sunlight, his shoulders, the small curve of his lips. Sometimes, Tony fantasizes about kissing those lips.

 

“Tony,” Steve says, fond and exasperated. A hand ruffles Tony’s hair, warm and large. And now his stylishly sleep-mussed hair is ruined. He says so, grumpily. Steve laughs. “This really is important, you know.”

 

“Avengers business?” Tony mumbles. He takes a few gulps of coffee, steals bacon off Steve’s plate, draws out schematics absently on a napkin.

 

“No,” Steve murmurs, softly. “No, it’s… personal.”

 

When Tony looks up, Steve is blushing, only just slightly, a faint dusting of pink high on his cheekbones. Well, then.

 

“Tony,” Steve says again, now turning his gaze full-force on Tony, all earnest determination and bright, hopeful eyes. “Would you go on a date with me sometime?”

 

_ Yes _ , he wants to say,  _ yes, I will, I’ve wanted this for so long _ , and doesn’t. He can’t say a thing, pinned in place, heartbeat thundering in his ears. His mouth is dry. He thinks maybe his face and ears are burning. Tony stays silent.

 

Steve’s face goes blank. “Oh,” he breathes.

 

“I’m sorry,” he offers. 

 

He avoids Steve for a week, after that, and Steve doesn’t look for him either. When Carol asks, Tony only smiles weakly.

 

“Lover’s spat?”

 

“...something like that.”

 

Their cohesion in the field is just as smooth as ever, though, and after a battle with Kang, Steve claps him on the back and says, “Good work, Shellhead” like he always does, and they go for burgers afterwards, so he figures they’re alright. It doesn’t matter that Tony’s wanted more for so very long, and he’s gone and messed it up.

 

Steve deserves better, anyways. He’ll get over Tony soon enough, and everything will be as it was before. He can almost see it happening, a conversation sometime in the future, Steve laughing as they reminisce over old times.

 

And Tony will laugh too, and smile, and he’ll congratulate Steve on his marriage or whatever, and pine.

  
  
  


4 |

  
  


It all comes to a head when he tries to push for the SHRA. He should’ve known better than to try hiding things like this from Steve, already. But it goes on, spirals, and the world keeps turning.

 

There had been discussions, before. Between Tony and (the government people), about superhumans, about how dangerous they could be for civilians.  _ All those battles _ , they’d said,  _ the collateral damage, the figures. Public opinion is changing.  _ But Tony can’t do anything, can’t save anyone in the fight he knows is going to break out. He’s seen this coming from months ago, and he still can’t think of a solution.

 

After the announcement, Steve breaks out of SHIELD, breaks the law, brings his friends and half the superhero population with him. They’re vigilantes. They save lives, still, like they’ve always have. They do good. But then accidents happen, and the people start questioning his authority, and Tony’s forced to hunt them down.

 

He hates it, hates this fighting between friends. He numbs himself to it, every time he shoots at children, every time he captures people he used to know. It still hurts.

 

Captain America leader of the Resistance, headlines shout, and Tony’s promoted to head of the SHRA, Secretary of Defense, Director of SHIELD.

 

He hates that he has to be the one doing this, that Steve isn’t with him now, when he needs him most.

 

Daredevil gives him a coin and calls him Judas as he’s led away, into the huge prison Tony’s built, and Tony just stands there, in his suit and armor. Where did he go wrong, he thinks.

 

(He’s lying. He knows. It all went wrong from the moment he decided it was a good idea to hide things.)

  
  
  


5 | 

 

He doesn’t learn his lesson.

 

Steve died, and Tony killed himself, and now he doesn’t remember, so no one takes anything out on him. He knows, though. He’s seen the footage, seen what he’d done before Osborn became Director. And he doesn’t understand why.

 

Extremis doesn’t work like it used to, but his functions are still the same, and he did get revived, so he fights, and they win, and despite the tension between everyone, Steve wants to be his friend again.

 

It’s the more than he could ever expect to have, so he accepts, greedy and desperate like he always is for Steve. Steve’s presence, Steve’s strength. God, he still loves him.

 

But then the universe breaks, and he has to do something, so he forms the Illuminati, contacts the smartest and brightest people he knows. “I need your help,” he says, and they all know it’s a bad idea, but there’s no other choice.

 

They want to build bombs, and Tony’s cold in his bones, craves a drink like never before.

 

Steve vehemently disagrees, because of course. Stephen wants to wipe his memory. They’ve tried reasoning, but the end of worlds has no place for honour or conscience, and Steve is and has always been his rudder in that.

 

‘Do it, Stephen,” he says, and if Steve’s confused, betrayed expression haunts him during the late nights in the lab, no one has to know.

 

But fire doesn’t stay hidden by paper, and he should remember that, next time. If there is a next time.

 

“I remember,” Steve grits out, quiet and angry, his fists clenching by his sides.

 

He thought he’d have more time.

 

Tony glares at his workshop table, at the gauntlet laid open before him. There’s a sense of deja vu here, like they’ve done this a million times over. They have. He thinks about the time his identity was revealed to the team, the first time, all those years ago. The fight with Molecule Man, the aftermath. It’d been exactly the same - Steve at his door, silent in his rage, and Tony at the workshop table.

 

Except this time, he’s about 98.7% sure Steve won’t let him off the hook.

 

You see, he’s lied to Steve so many times already, about so many things, big and small. There’s no way Steve isn’t tired of it already. There’s no way Steve isn’t done with him.

 

“Steve,” he says, turning his chair around. He’s so tired of this, of  _ pretending, lying _ , but his mouth goes on as it always has and always will. “What, exactly, do you remember?” Tony watches the muscle tick in Steve’s jaw, the clench of his fists.

 

“Don’t play dumb with me, Stark,” Steve warns, and Tony can hear the tension in his voice, the held-back explosion. It stings, despite the fact that he knows he’s in the wrong here.

 

“What do you want me to say,” he asks. It’s not as if they haven’t been through this over and over. Tony lies and lies, and Steve leaves in anger, comes back forgiving. Wash, rinse, repeat.

 

“You used me,” Steve accuses.

 

He did. “I did.” And he’d do it again. “And I’d do it again.” If it meant Steve’s conscience would be clear, if it meant he wouldn’t get his hands dirty, if it meant he could sleep without the burden of having killed six million people, Tony would do it, over and over. He would lie to Steve again and again, to protect him.

 

That he’s been lying to Steve all along, right from the start, has little to do with anything.

  
  


+1 |

 

“Tony.” Steve is the one pleading with him, this time. It feels strange, to have Captain America, once so righteous and good and pure, begging for forgiveness. Like the tables are turned, and when had they stopped being on the same side and started opposing each other?

 

_ Is it an act,  _ he wants to ask.  _ Is this an act, like everything else you’ve done the past… god knows how long. What was real? What was a lie?  _ Is this how Steve felt every time he found out about the things Tony kept from him?

 

“How can I help you, Captain?” he says, instead, like a coward.

 

It’s the end of the world, but the world has ended so many times already. Can he really say he forgives Steve, after all that’s happened? Carol is dead. Rhodey is dead. Everyone who’s ever cared about him is gone. Steve’s been planning this all along, except he hasn’t.

 

“Tony, nothing’s right, and it’s all my fault, and I- I need to make this right somehow-” Steve is babbling, a desperate, despondent look in his eyes. He’s nothing like the Steve Tony had known, and he’s nothing like the Steve Tony hadn’t known. The Steve before him is broken, horrified by his own cold-blooded actions.

 

Once, Tony would have comforted him. Taken Steve into his arms, assuaged his fears. Not anymore. Tony’s done with Steve, done with cleaning up his messes and fixing everything for him.

 

Now, Tony looks up from his desk, exhausted. “What do you want from me, Steve?”

 

Steve looks like he’s about to cry, hunching in the too-small chair of Tony’s office. “Tony,” he whispers, burying his face in his hands. “Tony, I’m so sorry.”

 

“Get out of my office, please.”

 

Steve stands, slowly, sadly. “I wasn’t lying when I said I loved you,” he says, quietly.

 

Tony’s just so tired.

 

“I know,” he says. 

 

Steve leaves.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and feedback are always much appreciated! You can find this fic on my Tumblr [here](https://tonium.tumblr.com/post/162419322056).


End file.
